Today we honor and celebrate the life of Michael Kevin Jackson — Michael, Mikey, Michael J, Big Mike, son, brother, dad, and most proudly, Poppy.
Michael entered this world on March 27, 1957, in Barstow, California. On February 8, 2026, his last trip around the sun came to a close. In between those dates was a life lived fully — with hard work, laughter, music, travel, and love.
As a young boy, Michael moved to Kingman during his middle school years and graduated from Kingman High School in 1975. Kingman became home — the place where he built his life, his career, and his family. His first job was with a local pest control company, and in 1980 he began working at the Duval Mine. When the mine closed, Michael didn’t slow down — he pivoted. He joined Southern California Edison, where his career truly took off. He dedicated himself to the trade of machine work, mastering his craft and eventually supervising for several years. Even when Edison shut down operations in Laughlin, Michael’s work ethic and skill carried him forward to Calpine and ultimately to his final retirement from the Hoover Dam. He took pride in what he did. He worked hard. And he provided well for the family he loved.
In 1999, Mike and Lorri took on an adventure together — owning a 50’s Diner. They served sandwiches and soda fountain treats, but more than that, they created a place filled with nostalgia, laughter, and community. One example of how they built a life side by side.
For 33 years, Mike and Lorri were a partnership — in work, in travel, in hobbies, and in dreams. Together they explored the world: visiting his sisters in Florida, enjoying beaches, theme parks, and new restaurants; standing in awe at Niagara Falls; walking in awe through the Smithsonian Museums; experiencing Fenway Park; traveling the East Coast; exploring the wilds of Alaska; and adventuring to tropical destinations such as Jamaica, the Cayman Islands, Cancun, and the Bahamas. They shared a love for tasting new cuisines and discovering new places, but what made every trip special was that they were together.
Michael was a man of many passions. In his younger years, he played softball with the City of Kingman, competing in tournaments, traveling with teammates, and making lifelong memories. Later, golf became his game — many sunny days spent cruising the course in his cart, laughing with friends and enjoying time with Lorri. He was an avid drag racing enthusiast, and he and Lorri held season tickets for NHRA, fueling his love for speed and horsepower.
Then there was the kitchen — and the garage. Mike developed a love for cooking, experimenting with new dishes, creating bold flavors, and even trying his hand at brewing different beers. He found joy in crafting something with his hands that others could enjoy. And music — to say he enjoyed music would be an understatement. He was always eager to share a new song he’d discovered. You could often find him in the garage, jamming out to Classic Rock, completely in his element.
Mike was a family man. He was a husband, a loving father to Nichole and Lacey, and a devoted Poppy to Jadyn, Asten, and Briana, and two great-granddaughters, Zora and Nova. He found deep joy in watching his daughters build their lives and was endlessly grateful to be part of his grandchildren’s world. Whether it was showing up to steer them in the right direction, sharing advice, making them laugh with his comedic sense of humor including various impersonations, or simply spending time together — that was where his heart was.
He is also survived by his sisters, Gayle Thompson and Terri (Jimmie) Humphries of Crawfordville, Florida, along with nieces and nephews who will carry his memory forward. He is pre-deceased by his Father LZ, his mother Oneta and his Sister Deborah along with her son Jarrod.
Michael leaves behind more than memories. He leaves behind a legacy of dedication, curiosity, humor, music, flavor, and love for his family. He taught those around him the value of hard work, the joy of sharing a good meal, the thrill of a loud fast engine, and the importance of showing up for the people you love.
Though we grieve his absence, we are grateful for the years we had. Many a song on the radio, particular smells from the kitchen, the roar of an engine, a bright sunny day on the golf course — these will remind us of him.
He always said his two best friends were Bob and Bud. That is… Bob Segar and Budweiser.
Michael’s last trip around the sun may have ended, but the light he brought into our lives will never fade.
Rest easy, Mike. You will always be our husband, our dad, our brother, our Poppy — and you will always be loved.
Although I never knew this man, I am moved beyond belief upon reading this story of a life well lived. As I sit here, surrounded currently by a life of impulsive decisions, regrettable choices and the results of my various actions throughout this journey around the sun, to read this life story reminds me that there are good people in this world who did it right, and I have a feeling that if this man was alive today, he would probably sit me down and along with his two best friends Bob and Bud, would explain to me the importance of a life well lived, and that there is still enough time to take this chaos that surrounds me and turn it all into something with a positive outcome. He seems like the kind of guy that would take that time with a total stranger and he has my respect for that. I send my condolences to his family and friends for his loss, but I also agree with them when they wrote that they were happy and grateful for the time that they did have with him, and hope they carry as much of his memory as they can with each of them to get them through the hard times, and far into the good times ahead. You were lucky to have a man like him in your life.